A Day in the Life of a Phantom
by TheAntidoteIsAlwaysJelly
Summary: This is the story of what the dear, sweet Phantom does in a regular, run-of-the-mill day. But sometimes, things don't quite go as planned... -ominous music-


**Hooray for new stories!**

**This, again, was made out of sheer boredom.**

**I woke up, and the idea came to me like, it knocked on my door and just, well, GAVE itself to me.**

**It was a pretty amazing experience.**

**Anywho, enjoy this little diddy I created from the ol' noggin.**

**Disclaimer: Unfortunately, I don't own any of Andrew Lloyd Webber's characters.. :(**

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**Chapter One: Blatantly Boisterous Bi-Lo**

The Phantom's lair has never been pleasant; What with the hanging cobwebs, and the sudden bursts of air. Also, the fire hazards and chance of drowning are dangerously high. But, somehow, Christine couldn't resist the creepy abode, along with his delicious scars. She left Raoul in the dust, to wallow in his grief. But only five minutes later, he suddenly became preoccupied with the shiny mall that glittered in the distance. "Now is my chance to get that new Armani shirt!" He had shouted. And with that, he was never heard from again.

On rare occasions, the happy couple of monster and mortal would have occasional quarrels, and they would go on what Christine called 'breaks'. But Erik called them 'mini vacations', for Christine would be gone for days at a time. This happened to be one of these 'breaks'. Thinking about this, Erik woke with a start. His eyes wheeled around his dwelling, to find a bunch of candles and sheet music. "Christine, why?" he mumbled.

Groggily, he crawled out of his colossal bed. In one swift move, he grabbed his cape and mask, and shuffled into the bathroom. He scrutinized his face in the mirror unhappily; poking and prodding at his scar. He frowned, "What did I do to deserve this?!" He then proceeded to demolish the mirror. When he was satisfied with the 3,863 pieces of broken glass, he smirked and continued his morning routine.

Erik stumbled into the kitchen, only to trip over a very expensive Persian rug that he and Christine had purchased from a very odd Mexican woman on their honeymoon in Guadalajara. He lay there, staring at the ceiling, thinking of ways that this situation could be worse; the rug could be a giant, angry alligator, with huge, gnashing teeth; it could turn into a volcano; the delicate patterns could be large flamingos dancing about; the giant picture of Hannah Montana (which has been hidden from Christine quite elusively) in the middle could turn into…Raoul..

Erik shuddered at the terrible thoughts; especially the last one. Then he realized that if Raoul and Hannah were to switch places, Raoul's face would be alarmingly close to Erik's buttocks.

Petrified, he jumped up in a way that would scare…well, himself. Involuntarily, he turned around to glare at the once beautiful rug. Hannah Montana smiled a smile that said something along the lines of: "It's the best of both worlds!" Then, Hannah winked, and jumped out of floor. Startled, the big, tough Phantom screamed like a chimpanzee. He rubbed his eyes, and then opened them to find Hannah back inside the rug, smiling as before.

"I guess I have to lay off the ice cream…" Erik whispered to himself, looking down at his pot-belly stomach, protruding slightly, which grumbled in response.

Remembering the only reason he came into kitchen, he sprinted toward the refrigerator. He ripped the door open to find…….nothing. Nothing, but a small piece of paper with writing that looked like a series of letters, words, and sentences.

Confused, he picked up the small piece of paper. He unfolded it, and it registered in his brain as a note. He starts to read the elegant script, which read:

Erik-

If you have not figured this out yet, this is Christine. You have been annoying me a lot these past few days. I don't know if I can take it anymore. So I think it's best for us to take a little break. I hope you understand, but you need to see where I'm coming from. Every mirror in the lair is destroyed, all because of your stupid little tantrums! How am I supposed to make sure I look beautiful every morning? Oh, wait. I always look beautiful. Never mind! But still, I like to gaze at myself once in a while, and with your childish fits, that's not possible.

I love you, but you're making it very hard lately.

-Christine 3

P.S: I'm staying with Meg for a while. We're going clubbing!

P.P.S: We took all of your food.

P.P.P.S: I hope you don't mind.

P.P.P.P.S: Then again, I really don't care.

Horrified, Erik dropped the note, hoping it would make a loud noise dramatically. But, alas, it was paper. "Damn you! You little Prying Pedora!" He shoutedfalling to his knees. He put his head in his hands as he realized what was to come.

He must go to….the grocery store…

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As fate would have it, the closest Bi-Lo was in London. And Erik and Christine live in France. Also, his car disappeared last night, thanks to that little viper.

So, the Phantom snatched one of Madame Cherie's horses, and started the dreadfully long journey. It wasn't until he reached the highway until he realized that there was a problem. Apparently, horses weren't allowed on the highway, which happened to be full of angry people.

Sighing, he slowly pulls off his mask, and puts on his 'scary face'. Kicking his feet into the horse's sides, he rode right into the traffic. Of course, the plan was fool proof. Every single person who looked at his scarred face cowered in fear. He soon made his way out of the congestion, feeling regret at all the people he mentally damaged. And that one teenage boy who screamed like a little schoolgirl in front of his girlfriend.

Erik giggled, which is something not often done.

After four long hours of winding roads, and one frightening hour of swimming (for the horse, not the Phantom), they finally reached Bi-Lo. Erik eased the horse into a respectable parking space, ticking off a very old looking woman, with a very bad potty mouth. He then tied the horse to five shopping carts, and made his way to the automatic doors.

As he walked inside, the people checking out their items suddenly froze. The cashiers turned their heads quickly, and stared at him as though he was, well…ugly, or something. Then the bad-mouthed woman walked through the doors, and turned to face Erik as though she were going to say something. But her eyes got as wide as the obviousness of Raoul's gay nature. She screamed a blood-curdling scream, shook around a bit, then fell on the floor, withered for about five minutes, and then appeared to have passed out. As a result, everyone else in the store did something similar.

By then, Erik realized what happened. "Oh, crap! I forgot my mask! Shoot, I'm sorry guys! Hold on!" He scurried out the door, scaring the cheese out of the bum that resided on the bench. He put his mask back on, and then walked back in, to find everything back to normal. "Every time…" he mumbled.

He acquired a shopping cart, and began making his way through the aisles. He came up to the section that held a plethora of chips of every size and shape. He was suddenly caught in a predicament; did he want Spicy Nacho Dorritos, or did he want Baked Lays? _Which does Christine prefer? _He that she was whoring around with her best friend, he waved his hand in front of his face, dismissing the a whim, he closed his eyes, and randomly grabbed one. Spicy Nacho it is.

He started walking again, until he reached the deli section. _All that meat…._ He thought which made the alien in his stomach stomp around and jump with glee. He walked up to the register, decision already made, coming face to face a teenage boy, about 16, with a serious acne issue.

"Can I help you, err, sir?" The kid said in a prepubescent voice.

"Ah, yes. Can I get one pound of everything?" Erik asked in a too-cheery voice.

The kid sputtered. _What a dork…_ Erik thought. "One of everything?" The kid questioned.

"Did I stutter? I believe that I said one of everything."

"Uhm, Sir? I don't think that is possible…"

Erik pinched his nose with his thumb and forefinger, and sighs. A very deep, resentful sigh. He removed his mask, which causes the kid to literally wet his pants. "Listen, punk," Erik said, sounding more menacing than he thought. "I rode five hours on a_ horse_, because my trashy girlfriend stole all of my precious food. I am starving," He makes a hand gesture to suggest that his stomach is growing smaller by the second, which it isn't. For the pot belly still resides. "And you tell me that I can't get anything, because it's not _possible_?!"

The boy was too terrified to speak, so he made a right turn, and began bagging every meat. "That's what I thought…Yeah, you stuff that meat in a bag…" whispered Erik, which scared himself. "Have a nice day." Erik said, waving flamboyantly, and turning to continue the hunt.

Passing the rows upon rows of endless possibilities, he cam to stop in front of the most beautiful object in the entire world (NOT Christine). Right before him was a giant pouch of Capri Sun. Strawberry-Kiwi flavored.

"OMGOMGOMG! THIS IS A DREAM COME TRUEE!" The manly Phantom squealed, which resulted in strange looks from the innocent passer-bys. He then proceeded to do a little jig in a circle. Grabbing two armfuls, he joyfully began searching for something with an equal amount of excitement.

Sadly, nothing came close. But he did manage to collect a bountiful harvest: three sticks of Axe Chocolate scented deodorant, five bags of pretzels, ten boxes of E. cookies (double stuffed), a very frightened child, a box of twist ties, an Evanescence C.D., more candles, a different rug, and a few boxes of staples.

Without struggling once, he carried his items to the cashier. This one was a girl who looked like she cared less about being there. Maybe in her early twenties, she was dresses in all black, bared a pin that read "FML" (whatever that meant…), and had phones of the head variety in her ears. Along with creepy makeup, she also had a collection of piercings.

"Hello, Ma'am!" Shouted Erik, which caused the girl to look up and glare.

"Uhh, hi?" she said, with a glazed look in her eye that could be taken as boredom. Without saying any other words, sentences, or even words, she ran each object across the glass scanner, which responded with a loud _beep!_, and the price £12,000 came up on the little screen.

"£12, 000," The girl said, as though the Phantom could not read. He reached into his pocket, which was supposed to hold his leather pouch which carried money and identification, normally called a wallet. But instead of finding a wallet, he found a ball of lint. A very, BIG ball of lint. Confused, he chucked the wad behind his head, which seemed to find the bad-mouthed old lady's forehead a good target.

Frantically, Erik searched himself, only to remember that he had left his wallet in his other cape.

"Maleeki-leeki!" He shouted, as a group of curious looking people, dressed in loin cloths and bone shards. One man was wearing a necklace made completely of human toes, and one woman wielded an army of coconuts.

"Maleeki-leeki!" They chanted.

"Uhh…" Erik scratched his beautiful head.

"Well?" The cashier asked impatiently.

Sighing once more, he took of his mask for the last time, in an attempt to scare the young woman. But she just stood there and watched him. "You know, you can just go… The manager is sort of busy with, err, them…" She pointed at the group of cannibals.

"Oh, well, thanks…I guess.." The Phantom mumbled. And he skipped outside to his, well, Madame Cherie's horse. He loaded everything in the horse's trunk, and with that, he departed at once.

Four plus one hours later, he reached the opera house. Quietly putting the horse back in the stable, he dashed to the window which leads to his lair. He climbed in, and made his way down the steps, ignoring the sudden gusts of wind.

"FINALLY!" he screeched, dropping the groceries willy-nilly in the kitchen. Not bothering to unload everything, he leaped gracefully across the floor, and launched himself into his bed. He stretched out; content. But, apparently, he stretched out a little too far, because he hit something with great force, which caused a high pitched yelp to occur.

"Ouchy!" screamed the unidentified object.

"What the-" Erik sat up, surprised, to find Christine sitting on the edge of the bed, rubbing the spot where she was struck by Erik's big, manly hands.

"Shalom, Erik." She said warily.

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**What a suprise ending! :O**

**I'm in the process of thinking of something else to write for the next chapter.**

**Send me some ideas if you are feeling saucy.**

**I'll respond to you even if the idea is horrid!**

**Thanks for reading!**

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**-pokes green button below-**


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